Pathetic
by HomestuckGirl
Summary: When Dave gets sick, it's usually unpleasant... In a sick state like, Dave talks more about how he's feeling and what he holds in. Better than the crappy description, I promise. Brotherly fluff. RR please. T for language. AU After Sburb
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One: Dirk and Dave Brotherly Fluff**

**Hussie owns Homestuck, I don't.**

* * *

><p>*Dave's POV*<p>

On a usual monday morning, I would wake up at 7:25 to catch the bus at 7:30... But today was different.

I didn't sleep to well last night, couldn't fall asleep for what felt like hours of uncomfortable blackness. And when I did finally get to sleep, at what was probably 2 or 3 in the morning, was because of exhaustion. I literally blinked and it was the next morning, 6:00 in the god forsaken morning. I was thinking Bro is probably still asleep, so I tried to be quiet as I left my room. My body just didn't feel _right._

"What are you doing up so early?" Dirk's voice boomed in my unready eardrums. Shit, it's like I have a hangover...

"Didn't sleep well..." I shook my head to wake me up. "Figured I should just get up and eat something."

"Uh, 'ight. You got plenty of time, chill a little." He gave a smirk before going to the computer to update a few sites.

I never got anything to eat, I wasn't feeling up to the task. I just slipped into my usual clothes, a simple t-shirt and jeans, and sat on the futon for a while. It felt like only a few minutes, but Bro shouted over his shoulder.

"It's time for school, lil' man. It's almost 7:30."

Had it really been a hour? "Thanks, see ya' later..." I sighed out to him as grabbed my Smuppet brand backpack.

"You ok? Ya' seem tired." He turned around fully, which he doesn't normal do unless it's important, or I do something stupid.

"I'm fine." I shrugged. "Gotta go before I miss the bus, later."

"Later..." His voice had a little hint of concern in it, but it sounded vaguely like the voice he uses when "comforting" Lil Cal. With a quick wave over my head, I closed the door after me and made my way down the stairs.

Just as I got outside, the bus pulled up and opened its door for me. Usually, I would jump on, toss my shit into the first seat (left open for me through some persuasion...) and plop down next to it with my headphones on.

Today, I just walked onto the bus, no items thrown, and sat down in my seat quietly. My phone was in my pocket, but I didn't pull it out to use it. Not even my crappy jams interested me.

* * *

><p>As soon as I got to my first class, I felt like complete shit. Glad I have my shades, because I bet I look like hell. I sat in Math with the teacher yapping away, her hands swinging as she spoke about how we need to know this when the bell rang. I'm hoping Mr. Claude's English class will be better.<p>

I won't make it to English...

I walk through the hall slowly, my legs not wanting to cooperate with me and my head pounding away. The normally two minute walk seemed like a mile. I was almost at the class room, actually in the hall right outside the door, when the bell rang and my stomach lurched. The pain was so sudden, I dropped my books to grab my abdomen, but one hand went in front of my mouth as I get _that _feeling. Next to me was a trash can that had been decorated by the art club and put in the halls to "make it look nice", and I was ripping the metal lid off so I could stick my head inside. Just in time too, because I would have made a mess.

The sound of puke hitting the bottom of the empty bag, echoing on the metal that surrounded it, was disgusting. My whole throat burned as it came up, my mouth wanting to protest but unable to. After a few seconds, the flow stopped, but the pain was still there. I swayed a little, holding back the small urge to purge again, when a new feeling washed over me. The dehydration, hunger, and puke started to creep up on me.

Mr. Claude had come out of the class to investigate the source of the noise, which is when I hit the ground.

####

I woke up laying on the cot in the Nurses Office, a migraine, and my shades hooked onto the neck of my shirt. Two things: One, how did I get here? And two, what time is it?

And three, I really need to puke. Look over to my right, and a small trash bin is sitting there, assumingly placed there for me. I turn to lean over the side of the bed, grab the small bin, and once again I'm vomiting and burning my throat. Once the deed is done, I stay hanging over the edge because I'm too tired to move back.

I guess one of the lady's heard me, and came to the room.

She sighs before entering he room. "Your brother should be here soon, Mr. Strider." She walks over and helps me back into a comfortable position, and shoves a thermometer in my mouth.

"Fu'u..." I try to speak, but between the burning and the thermometer, it's not worth the effort.

The thing beeps, and she takes it out. "102, almost 103... Let me get you some water, you're probably thirsty." I want to tell her 'No shit, Sherlock.' but she is already leaving.

The sound of a door being thrust open with a _little _to much force means Dirk finally got here.

How pathetic I must look right now... I close my eyes again, and thats all that I remember after that.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you for the reviews! ;u;**

**Chapter 2**

* * *

><p>I woke up a few moments later, still on the cot, so I assumed I hadn't been out long. Bro was chilling in the chair, my backpack at his feet and found something on the roof worth his attention. My whole body was sore, just burning and aching all over. I rubbed my eyes and let out a involuntary groan, catching Bro off guard slightly and snapping his attention in my direction.<p>

"Nice of you to wake up, I've been sitting here for 10 minutes." He joked around, trying to lighten the mood.

"Sh-" My voice cracked as I tried to insult him. Almost immediately, he was propping me up and shoving a cup in my hand.

"Take a drink." Without questioning, I took a sip. It was then only then did I realized just how thirsty I was. I mean, he could have given me _piss _and I would have drank it. I downed the glass and held it out for him to grab, and he laid me back down. "Let's get ya' home and out of this rathole."

"How did I... get here?"

"Mr. Claude called the nurse, they came and got you. Said ya' hit your head on your books which saved you from a concussion-"

"Fuck..." I cut him off and held my stomach as a sharp pain kicked in.

"What, stomach hurt?"

"No shit, Sherlock."

"Glad your insulting abilities have not been effected." He laughed. He got off the bed and slung my backpack over his shoulder. "Count of three, I'm picking you up. One... Two... _Three_." His hands slid under my back and knees, and I was being held bridal style.

"Just _please_ try not to puke until we get the car, I have a bucket in there." He started walking, nodding at the nurse as he exited.

"No promises..." I rested my head on his chest, trying to keep my stomach at bay. _Breathe in... Breathe out... _I followed the rhythm of his heart beat, keeping my eyes closed. It dawned on me that my glasses were still hooked onto my shirt, and he hadn't said a thing about it.

He kicked the door of the school open with no problem, the warm Texas air flowing past... it didn't make my stomach feel any better.

"Ya' know, you could have told me that ya' didn't feel well." I opened my eyes cautiously, and he was looking at me. "If you felt sick, I would have let you stay home."

"I know... I know." _Fuck... _I really hate when he tries to be so nice, he doesn't understand how crappy it makes me feel. "I just didn't want to bother you with it, since your so busy all the time."

"Dude, my sites can wait a day or two, they can run themselves. But you're my bro, you're my top priority. If your sick, I will help you out."

"I... I'm sorry..." I'm such an idiot...

"Don't be sorry, it's not your fault." He stopped walking once he reached the car. "Do you think you can stand for a sec?"

"Yea..." Slowly, he lowered my feet to the ground and leaned me on the car. I put most of my weight against it, but I was able to stand. He clicked his keys, and pulled the passenger side door open. The seat was reclined all the way back, a bucket laying on the seat. A little more falling then walking, I got into the seat and put the bucket between my legs. With a quick flash step, Bro was already getting in the car as my door closed.

"Let's get you home..."

* * *

><p><strong>This chapter is a little short, sorry ;n; Just want to get it out before the start of the week, because school tends to get in the way of writing. I will try to get out longer chapters, don't worry!<strong>

**Just a little side note, this AU is after all the Sburb insanity, and they remember the game. Dave doesn't like to talk about it, because he doesn't really like to remember everything, like Bro's death and all that.**

**But lets see how that plays into the story... *wonk wonk***


End file.
